


Behind the Wardrobe

by SatansBestFriend



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Drug Use, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Romance, Teenagers, Teenlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-01-16 13:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12343200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SatansBestFriend/pseuds/SatansBestFriend
Summary: Sherlock is alone, until he meets John Watson. His life is no longer as miserable. Then, things spiral out of control and there is no going back.





	1. Chapter 1

Sherlock tried to block them out, but he could hear them calling. When he walked past he could hear their calls of freak. Loner. Attention seeker.

He had always been the smartest in his year, and he knew that. When his classmates were messing around he was listening and trying to understand the lesson. Sherlock had never understood people or emotions that well, he had never really had a proper friend. Sherlock had figured that because he was intelligent people would want to be his friend.

But no one wanted to be friends with the freak and the outcast. Sherlock had just accepted this, and got on with his work. He supposed he would never have a friend, so there was no point in trying. Even the fact that he was a genius wasn’t enough. Sherlock’s brother had always been smarter, and excelled at everything. His brother was the brains of the family, while he was just taking up space.

And Sherlock accepted all of this. He knew it wouldn’t change, so there was no point in trying to change it. It had been a long summer. Mycroft was at university, so Sherlock had been bored out his mind.

He had toyed with the idea of taking drugs. Sherlock had met someone on the street on the way home from school who had offered him cocaine, and he had taken the deal. Sherlock had decided to save it for when his miserable life got unbearable, and he had quickly stashed them behind his wardrobe.

Now, the summer had ended and it was the first day back at school. Sherlock opened the door to his form room.

“Sherlock, there you are!” exclaimed Mrs Hudson. She had always been nice to Sherlock. “Good to see you again.”

“Good to see you too, Mrs Hudson.” Sherlock replied.

He surveyed the class carefully, and spotted a new boy at the front. He had messy, sun-kissed blond hair and sharp, pale blue eyes. Sherlock miserably stopped himself here. He had never had a proper friend, there was no chance of him getting a boyfriend.

Sherlock sighed, and sat back in his seat. He started arranging his books neatly in his bag to distract himself.

“Ok class, settle down.” Said Mrs Hudson cheerily. “For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Mrs Hudson. I’m your form tutor for this year, and I also teach cooking classes. This year we have two new students in our form, both of them are year nines. We have Molly Hooper,” Molly smiled around at everyone while Mrs Hudson looked at the new boy. “and this is John Watson.”

Mrs Hudson sat at her desk. John turned around and smiled at Sherlock. Sherlock smiled back, pleased to have been noticed. Before they could talk, Mrs Hudson took registration.

A few minutes later the bell went to signify first period. Sherlock picked up his bag, and headed out the classroom.

“Hey, hello?” John tapped Sherlock on the shoulder.

“Hello, I’m Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes.” He replied awkwardly.

“John Watson. I’ve got chemistry, can you show me where that is?”

Sherlock couldn’t believe his luck. This must mean John was in the same classes as him.

“I’ll show you, we’re in the same class.” Sherlock led John towards science. John walked quietly for a few seconds, then turned to face Sherlock.

“Do you mind if I sit with you today?” Sherlock thought he saw some colour rise to Johns cheeks as he said this, but he dismissed it quickly.

“What do you mean?” Sherlock asked curiously. John’s smile seemed to fade a bit.

“I’m new, I don’t really know anyone. I just thought maybe we could sit together, just for today- ”

“Of course.” Sherlock cut in. “You can sit with me as long as you like.”

Sherlock blushed, and tried to hide it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know when I can update next, I apologise


	2. Chapter 2

“I can’t believe it just exploded!” John laughed. Sherlock giggled too, and realised he hadn’t been this happy in years.

Philip Anderson, who had pretty much started the whole ‘Freak’ thing when they were in primary school, had forgotten to take the tube out of his limewater. The test tube had sucked the water back in, and as a result of the temperature difference, the glass had exploded.

After chemistry, Sherlock and John had English. Sherlock had declared it boring near the beginning, and hadn’t stopped whining about how bad it was until the end of the lesson.

They had then gone to the canteen, and sat together on a nice little table. Sherlock had then started filing things away in his mind palace out of habit. He sat with his hands pressed together beneath his chin, and his eyes closed, mumbling chemical equations and pieces of information to himself softly. John had watched this in wonder, then after about a minute tapped Sherlock on the shoulder gently.

Sherlock didn’t respond immediately, so John tried again and Sherlock muttered more scientific equations and other things that John couldn’t make out.

“Sherlock?” John said curiously. “Are you okay?”

Sherlock opened his pale green eyes with a sharp breath and looked back at John, realising he had neglected to tell him what he was doing.

“Yes, I’m alright, John.” Sherlock responded. “It’s a technique I use to store information for future use. It’s called the method of Loci; the theory is I can never forget anything if I can retrace my steps to where it’s stored. I can delete unneeded information too, like that English lesson.”

John smiled. “Cool. That’s amazing, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Sherlock was puzzled, his usual air of confidence and smugness broken.

“You… You think it’s amazing?” He inquired.

“Why wouldn’t I?” John said softly.

Sherlock paused, and looked down at the table. “Most people think I’m a freak. They just don’t understand. When I do deductions, they think I’m showing off to look smart. I can’t really help it.”

“Deductions? How so?” Said John curiously.

Sherlock looked back up at John, and then looked him over sharply, noting every small detail about him.

“Well, you have an older brother. Your family are a bit tight on money, possibly because of your father’s drinking problems. You particularly enjoy art and rugby. One day, you want to go into medicine and become a doctor.”

“That was amazing, Sherlock.” John said in wonder. “How?”

Sherlock smiled, he wasn’t used to people reacting like this. “Well, your bag is a bit battered, and going by the fading of the colour, about seven years old. Your parents can’t afford to pay for a new one, and it has had a previous owner because it reads ‘Harry Watson’ at the top.  The name Watson suggests it is a hand-me-down rather than from a jumble sale, so a relative, most likely an older brother.”

He paused, and John was still looking at him with his eyes full of wonder. Smiling, he continued the deduction. “You have watercolour paint on the cuff of your shirt, and pencil smudges on your fingers, but we don’t have art until tomorrow, and there was no homework. You must be working on something at home. There is a light bruising down your arm, you either got in a fight or play rugby, and it seems most likely rugby.”

“Fantastic!” John said. “Sister, though.”

“What?”

“I have a sister. Harry is short for Harriet.”

The bell rang. They gathered their things, and John checked his timetable.

“History.”

Sherlock and John joined the crowded sea of students and made their way to class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I'm back. I'm going to update every Thursday, enjoy :)


	3. Chapter 3

“Welcome, class. My name is Mrs Donovan, I will be your history teacher for this year.” She turned to her laptop, and projected a plan onto the board. “As you can see, I have prepared a seating plan”

The class muttered in annoyance. Sherlock surveyed the board to find his and John’s names. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that they were seated next to each other, but after noticing who else was on his table he felt sick.

John had been looking at Sherlock, and could see that he was clearly dreading something. Sherlock’s body had stiffened, he looked… scared? John hadn’t seen Sherlock like this before, he was usually calm and collected.

Sherlock seemed to snap out of it, and return to his usual charade of intelligence. He sat down, and ignored the two boys sat opposite.

“Oh, look, Sebastian!” Jim said in delight. He was the shorter of the two, with an Irish accent as he spoke. His hair was gelled back in place and his eyes had a mischievous glint to them.

Sherlock winced. He didn’t look up from the table, he just opened his book and started to write the date.

“Leave him alone!”

Sherlock looked up in surprise. John was furious, and there was a hint of a smile on his lips. His eyes were narrowed at Jim and Sebastian, who looked surprised at the outburst.

“Who are you?” Sebastian asked.

Jim giggled. “He didn’t pay you, did he? Seb, it looks like we finally have a fighter.”

“I said leave him!” John was shouting now, the rest of the class looked around at him.

“Settle down, class!” Mrs Donovan was clearly annoyed at the disturbance.

Jim looked at John, and raised his hands in mock defeat.

The rest of the lesson dragged on. Death glares shot across the table, back and forth constantly.

Sherlock sighed, he hadn’t wanted to bring John into this, although he was quite pleased that John was so protective of him. Sherlock glanced across at him, and smiled.

After what seemed like days, History ended. They were sitting in the canteen for lunch, and Sherlock thanked John for what had happened in history. John was trying to get Sherlock to eat as he ate his own lunch, but Sherlock refused and sat quietly, lost in thought.

“So what job do you want?” Sherlock asked eventually.

“Hmm?”

“What do you want to do when you leave school?”

“I want to be a doctor. A medic in the army. I want to save lives, and to help people.”

Sherlock laughed. “How noble.”

“Shut up. What do you want to do then?”

“I want to be a detective. I don’t really have an interest in helping others, I guess I just want to solve interesting murders.”

John looked at him, speechless.

Sherlock continued. “Of course, Mycroft wants me to be a scientist.” He rolled his eyes.

“Mycroft?”

“My self-important brother.”

“Oh, it runs in the family, does it?”

“Shut up, John. How’s your sister?”

“Ok, I guess?”

“Sober?”

John looked upset, and sunk back into his chair.

“I’m sorry, John, I – ”

“Forget it.”

They set off to their next lesson, and after a while began chatting again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm busy at the moment, but I will post two chapters next Thursday or possibly sooner


	4. Chapter 4

Students piled out of the corridors onto the pathways to the gates, wanting to leave the freshly gardened school grounds as soon as possible. Sherlock was about to leave too, but John gently tapped his shoulder. Trying to remain composed, he turned to face John.

“Yes?”

“Do you want to go to the park with me?”

Sherlock felt a wave of excitement and affection wash over him, no one had ever asked him to go to the park with him before except his brother, but that didn’t count. He smiled at John.

“I’d love to, John.”

“Brilliant!” Said John, looking pleased.

They walked the five-minute route to the park, discussing a number of different subjects, from what had been in the papers lately to what was on the telly tomorrow.

When they reached the park, Sherlock had led the way to a large tree, beneath which the two of them had sat side by side, only millimetres apart. The sky was a pale blue, the grass a bright green with the occasional patch of mud where football boot had pulled up the earth, and the sun shone down across the park.

“How long has it been?” Asked John.

“How long has what been?” Replied Sherlock curiously.

“How long have they called you freak?”

“Since August the 5th, 2009.”

“Bloody hell Sherlock,” John’s eyes were ablaze with anger, his rage and fury seeped into his words. “you can’t just let people say things like that.”

Sherlock was touched that John cared so much for him, nobody had ever bothered with him before, and now had a friend standing at his side.

“What was I meant to say John, I-” Sherlock shut his eyes and sighed. “I’ve never even had a proper friend before, I didn’t think a freak like me deserved one. They’re right, John, and that’s the truth.”

“Christ, Sherlock, I’ll never believe that when I have proof of quite the opposite in front of me.” John’s words were softer now, reassuring Sherlock. “I’ll always be here for you, just promise you won’t ever leave me.”

“But we only met today! Are you sure, John?”

“Promise me!”

“I promise.” Sherlock remembered the cocaine behind his wardrobe with a spike of guilt, but he told himself he’d never use it, not with John by his side.

“Thank you. I think you’re brilliant Sherlock. Amazing. Just don’t let it get to you.” John paused, looking at Sherlock sadly. “I won’t let it get to you.”

“But surely you have problems of your own to deal with?”

“True. But you’re my priority now.”

Sherlock looked at John in wonder, he couldn’t believe that someone who had only just met him would like him, let alone promise all this.

The sharp sound of a phone ringtone pierced the moment, ringing out loudly across the field.

“It’s my mum.” Said John apologetically. He took the call, leaving Sherlock to think and try to take in all that John had said to him.

After about a minute, John hung up and put his phone back in his pocket. “I need to go. Are you okay Sherlock?”

“Yes, John.”

“Good, call me if you need to talk. Remember your promise.”

Sherlock smiled. “Stop fussing, you’re worse than Mrs Hudson. I’m fine.”

As John left the park, Sherlock realised that although he was broken, he still had hope. He picked the grass, and fiddled with it while adding this conversation to his mind palace. For once, he had hope.

***

John sat on his bed, thinking about what had happened at the park. His bedroom was small, his old battered desk and bed squeezed in. The walls were pale grey, peeling in places, and the carpet stained in places.

John closed his eyes. He had been so alone, nobody to talk to, and then he had found Sherlock. He had found a wonderful person, yet like him Sherlock was also broken. John had found a broken genius, and he was determined to help Sherlock, to show him that someone cared about him.

Sherlock had shown him his side to the world, a side where sentiment and attachment were kept separate from the outcome. Sherlock, John supposed, cared about too little, while he cared too much.

He would always get involved emotionally, and it destroyed him. When he was younger, about seven, his best friend, Mike Stamford, had got an inoperable brain tumour. John had refused to accept it, and spent all of his time researching and trying to find a solution to his best friend’s problem.

It had been no use. A part of him had known that a seven year old wouldn’t be able to find the cure for cancer, but despite that he had kept going, searching the internet, books, all that he could find with tears streaking his face.

John had hated that feeling of helplessness, he had hated standing by and watching his friend die. Five months later, standing beside Mike’s grave in the cold, bitter morning, he had sworn to become a doctor, so he could help someday, so he could give hope to those who had lost it years ago.

This was why he couldn’t stand by and watch Sherlock crumble. This time, he was going to be there, he refused to watch another of his friends die. Two broken teenagers, slowly repairing each other, saving each other from themselves.


	5. Chapter 5

Sherlock curled up tighter, tears streaking his filthy face. He had dared to stand up to Jim in geography, and now he was lying in the mud, a pool of his own blood surrounding him.

“What’s wrong, can’t take a little pain?” Jeered Sebastian.

"Show your face!” Jim ordered. “It’s boring if I can’t see your face.”

Sherlock weakly raised his head, his matted curls plastered to the side of his face. He knew when he had been beaten, there was no point in resisting now. He looked into Jim’s cheery face, and winced.

Jim and Sebastian stood over him, blocking out any light there would have been, although it was a damp, cloudy day.

Sebastian punched him again, and Sherlock hit the floor again. He was too dizzy to think, unable to move in the thick mud.

Jim had found him while he had been making his way to the library for some research, John had been going to collect some homework. Sherlock had then been dragged behind the school, out of sight.  
Sherlock tried to refocus, and braced himself for another kick or punch, sinking deeper into the mud.

“Hey!” It was John! Sherlock looked up hopefully, and saw John furiously punch Jim in the head. Jim fell into the mud, unconscious. Sebastian tried to hit John, but John ducked and took out Sebastian’s legs. John kicked Sebastian in the stomach for good measure.

He left the two of them in the mud and crouched down to Sherlock.

“Sherlock!” John whispered in disbelief. “I was gone for five minutes, Jesus, Sherlock!”

Sherlock smiled weakly up at John, and stood, cringing in pain. He leaned on the wall for support, he was too dizzy to stand by himself.

“Thank you.” Sherlock spat blood onto the ground, and looked up at John, lost for words.

John shook his head gently, and then picked up his bag. He rummaged through it, pulling out a green plastic box. It was a first aid kit.

“Useful thing to carry around.” Sherlock commented.

“Yeah, well, I might as well practice if I want to be a good doctor. Are you sure you don’t want to sit?”

“I’m fine, John. It’s just a few scratches.”

“A few scratches?” Said John in disbelief. “Sherlock, you almost blacked out. You still might have a delayed concussion, probably a few broken ribs.”

John started to gently clean and bandage Sherlock’s wounds as best he could, cutting away parts of his clothing to get to the gashes.

“That’ll do for now. Your finger’s broken, at least, and you’re still very weak. Take my water, it’ll help.”

John put his arm around Sherlock to support him. He half dragged Sherlock to Mrs Hudson, who almost fainted at the sight of Sherlock.

“Oh, you’re in a right state, the both of you!” Mrs Hudson exclaimed. “Sherlock, I’ll drive you to the hospital right now. John, come with me, I can’t support him by myself. Who did this?”

“Unimportant.” Sherlock spat.

“Unimportant! Sherlock, you’re barely standing!”

“Unimportant!”

Three hours later, Sherlock had been seen by a few doctors. The doctors had extensively examined him with x-rays, so now they were waiting for the results in a half full waiting room.

Every doctor they had seen had praised how well the cuts had been cleaned and bandaged. Sherlock had thanked John too many times for rescuing him, for saving him.  
After a while, they were called into a different room. The doctor was the one that had examined Sherlock first, a nice lady called Mrs Hooper, John recalled.

“He’s got a broken rib, and his right finger is fractured. He also has a mild concussion, but nothing too bad. You got lucky.”

“John, that’s exactly what you said earlier!” Sherlock smiled with pride.

“I suppose so.” John was grinning too.

Once Mrs Hudson was satisfied, she took Sherlock home. John went back to school, he had computing with Dr Lestrade. John was distracted, he couldn’t stop thinking of seeing Sherlock defeated, on the floor, in a pool of blood.

He sighed, and got back to work.


	6. Chapter 6

Sherlock limped up to the school gates, his head held high, uniform tidy and neat. His hear was parted, as usual, but you could see the bruising and cuts on his head, although all the matted blood had been washed out of his hair. Sherlock still held himself tall, even though he was crumbling to dust inside, even though he was wasting away. The one thing in his life that could be relied upon was John Hamish Watson, and he was never going to let him go.

The only reason he had come to school today had been to see John. He had left the hospital despite what the doctors had said. He didn’t care who saw him weak and limping, he just needed to see John’s face again. He needed to see that John was okay.

Jim and Sebastian now knew that Sherlock and John were close. Sherlock wasn’t feeling good about that. He blamed himself for dragging John into this, John shouldn’t have to suffer because he was a target.

John spotted Sherlock, and felt a mix of relief and guilt. John blamed himself for not being there for Sherlock. John smirked angrily. He was now willing to do anything for revenge.

Sherlock limped over to John, swaying a little as he stepped.

“Sherlock!” Exclaimed John. “I didn’t think you’d be let out this soon! Usually they have to do all sorts of tests and things! Really, you should be resting.”

“Mycroft pulled a few strings.” Sherlock smirked. “Anyway, I wanted to say thank you. I couldn’t say it properly yesterday, so I figured I’d do it now.”

“You’re welcome, although I’m not sure I did much.”

“You did brilliantly, John, you’ll make a great medic.”

“Come on then, we’ve got chemistry now, that’ll cheer you up. Are you sure you don’t need a hand?”

Sherlock gritted his teeth and stood up properly, wincing when he put his full weight on his leg. He looked up at John. “I’ll be fine.” John looked concerned, but didn’t say anything of it.

As Sherlock stumbled his way there, he had a thought. “We definitely have chemistry.” He muttered to himself, smiling up at John, who was looking at him again.

“Hmm? Did you say something?” Asked John.

“No.” Sherlock said with a smile.

They sat down in chemistry, and Sherlock immediately looked around the room to see if Jim and Sebastian were there. His eyes fell on the two vacant seats at the back. He grinned, John seemed to have noticed as well because he wasn’t as tense, he’d also unballed his fists and laid his hands flat on the table.

The lesson was average, but Sherlock kept getting distracted by little details like the fact that John had used a different shampoo today, and parted his hair neatly using an expensive hair gel. John also seemed a bit restless, like he was worried or maybe excited about something. Sherlock had no idea what, and was about to ask him before the bell went. Every student hurried off to their next class.

They had different classes now; Sherlock history, and John geography, so Sherlock decided he would ask John at break, and got on swiftly with writing and essay about the English civil war.

After school, they went to sit in the spot of shade under the tree. The noise of after school football and rugby training made the park seem bright and lively. The green leaves on the trees were thinning a bit now, it was almost Autumn. The air was colder and sharper, but Sherlock didn’t mind at all. John didn’t look bothered either, he still looked excited. Sherlock hadn’t had a chance to ask him about it yet, and watched with amusement as John fidgeted restlessly.

They started a light conversation, Sherlock listening intently to every word that left John’s mouth. He loved the way John’s face lit up when he talked about something he was passionate about. John had told Sherlock loads about medicine, and he had stored every word in his mindpalace.

John was just millimetres from Sherlock now, he seemed less restless than before. Sherlock watched him curiously, he was intrigued by John’s behaviour.

Suddenly, John leaned in and kissed him gently.

Sherlock couldn’t believe it! How had he missed the signs, he should have seen it! He felt numb, he couldn’t believe John felt the same way as him! Sherlock was overwhelmed, he just sat gazing at John. Seconds could have passed, or hours. Sherlock didn’t care really, all he cared about was John.

“Sherlock?” John waved his hand in front of Sherlock. “Hello? It’s getting a bit scary now. Sherlock?”

Sherlock blinked.

“Yes. So, what you mean is that you… you… yep.”

“Do you like me then? I honestly can’t tell.”

In response, Sherlock kissed him back softly.

“I’ll take that as a yes then. I thought that you’d stopped breathing, bloody hell, Sherlock.”

John shivered, it was getting colder.

“Here, take my coat.” Sherlock gracefully removed his long coat, and laid it on John’s shoulders.

“Thanks, why don’t you share it with me? We’ll preserve more heat that way.”

They chatted for about an hour, before just sitting in the Autumn wind together. John curled up against Sherlock, and slipped into a light sleep. Sherlock sat with him, overwhelmed by everything and nothing at all.

Sherlock sat there for another, hour happily cuddled up towards John. Eventually, John lifted up his head sleepily to find his head rested on Sherlock’s school bag. John was still under Sherlock’s coat, he looked up to find Sherlock sitting with a university level chemistry textbook, muttering equations and elements to himself under his breath softly.

“Sherlock, why didn’t you wake me? You must be really cold.” John moved to give Sherlock his coat back, but Sherlock refused.

“You needed it more, I’m fine really.”

Sherlock looked down at John, who was still slightly sleepy, wondering what he had done in his life to deserve such a wonderful best friend. No, it was more than that now, Sherlock thought with a smile. Sherlock Holmes had a wonderful boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun writing this, I hope you enjoyed it :)


End file.
